Why? Why do I try? One look at Xander's cornsilk hair projecting past his ears and those clippers literally start screaming my name from the bathroom cabinet. And every time I sit him in his little high chair and start one of his favourite movies, I think to myself "this kid is going to look AWESOME!". It's also always at night during the post-dinner dip in my blood pressure, and it's always in bad lighting. So why am I surprised the next day to find that his hair is not as AWESOME as I had imagined?
One of the many perks of motherhood is getting cool little household toys, like hand-held vacuums and swiffer dusters. And clippers. If I thought my husband would still sleep in the same house as me I would totally shave my head just for the pure joy of using these clippers. So that's the other draw of cutting Xander's hair, plus after a few minutes he doesn't seem to mind so much.
If I ever call you and utter the words "and tomorrow I'm going to cut Xander's hair" please ask me to hand the phone to my husband, then instruct him to hide the sacred clippers. Think of the children.
1 comment:
Xander's haircut looks like a newspaper story "Vulnerable cornsilk haired child attacked by Gopher Girl of the North".
Post a Comment